


there's madness in the method

by kd_ntjb



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: F/F, Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kd_ntjb/pseuds/kd_ntjb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's easy to get caught up in Chloe's body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's madness in the method

**Author's Note:**

> Let's post this quickly before I do something I regret. I guess I could pretend it's a teensy-weensy bit of a character study but who are we kidding?

It's easy to get caught up in Chloe's body: the smooth expanses of skin, the soft heat buzzing with the scent of excitement, the curve of her hip pressing against Aubrey's. It's easy and comfortable. Chloe is warm, wet, beckoning spaces, dark and mysterious, endless and unfathomable. Chloe is rough foreplay and gentle kisses. Chloe is home.

 

Aubrey slides her hand down the slope of Chloe's spine letting it settle against the small of her back, skin just barely brushing skin. Chloe's breath is hot against her neck, their pulses a syncopated rhythm thrumming against each other's chests, breasts pressed flush against one another.

 

"Please," Chloe whispers.

 

It's a little cruel, maybe, but she can't. Not yet. Chloe is like art, only far above it and Aubrey isn't done getting lost in her yet. But Chloe is impatient, always so impatient; after all the times they'd done this, Aubrey would have thought she'd learn not to rush the process. So Aubrey whispers back, "Shh. Shhh. Let me take care of you."

 

Aubrey likes to take her time. She needs it. Chloe needs to learn about taking her time too. Chloe's arms, already wrapped around Aubrey's waist, pull tight, trying to press their bodies even closer together. Aubrey pays them no mind and keeps stroking soft patterns up and down the length of Chloe's back, tracing the curve of her shoulder blades down the gentle dip and groove of her hips, then lower, then up again like the tides.

 

"Please," Chloe says again, but this time it's more of a whimper.

 

Chloe buries her head in the Aubrey's neck and presses deeper and deeper into her hips. She can feel Chloe’s breath hitch, unsteady gushes of air blowing hot and cold and hot on her throat. She smiles, indulgent, and presses a kiss to Chloe's hair, chaste but so much more. Her hands slink lower to acquiesce but they move slowly, creeping down to where Chloe wants them to go.

 

It's not enough for Chloe. Not Chloe who's always so demanding. It's not pressing anymore, but grinding. Her hands cup Aubrey's ass and grope wildly for some sort of better grip, better leverage, better anything, to support the way Chloe dips her entire body down lower to try and rub herself, slick and inviting, against Aubrey.

 

Aubrey suppresses a sigh; she doesn't want to break the mood. Even if she did allow herself the luxury, it'd be more exasperation than relief. Aubrey hates being rushed. Interruptions break Aubrey's concentration and if Aubrey's concentration is broken, then how can Chloe expect her to out do the last time? It's all for Chloe, after all. Always.

 

It was for Chloe, so Aubrey indulged the frantic stripping of clothes, the ripping of underwear from bodies, the way she'd been pinned against the door, handle digging uncomfortably in her back, head too lost in a sea of arousal to care. It was for Chloe, so Aubrey entertained the poor timing, the unsubtle excuse to leave her family’s wedding reception, the scratch marks down her sides where Chloe had beg, beg, begged for _this_ to be the time and place.

 

Aubrey had allowed all that, so the least Chloe could do was give her some time to work.

 

The friction of their bodies isn't enough. It's not enough to shake Aubrey's concentration, not completely, but it's also not enough to satisfy Chloe. Aubrey takes small comfort from things like that. She grips Chloe's hips, thumbs digging either side of the bones in way that's hard but just shy of leaving bruises. Aubrey is well practiced and considerate of all things related to Chloe, but, sometimes, Chloe just so often lacks the foresight to remember Aubrey. She gets caught up in the moment. That's okay. Aubrey's the one who can bring her back. That's the way it's always been: Chloe lifting them up and Aubrey keeping them grounded.

 

"It'll be better if you wait," Aubrey soothes. Her hands still Chloe's motion, but just barely, and there's a noise of discontent and disagreement, a whimper caught between a moan. Protest.

 

Chloe is not in a negotiating mood. As soon as the distance is made, she tries to close it again, lunging for Aubrey's mouth until she's caught, trapped again, between Chloe's lips.

 

Aubrey's hands are doing their best to slow down the pace of the night, but Chloe's have different ideas. They _pull_ back, nails leaving trails like fire, over the bare skin of Aubrey's ass and to meeting of her legs. Her legs are still pressed together, thankfully, for all the way Chloe's hands try to get them to part. Aubrey can still feel the heat and damp of where Chloe was once pressed against her but now she can feel her own, too, pooling and coiling in the pit of her gut.

 

Chloe's fingers curl again and dig hard into the insides of Aubrey's thighs. She thinks about the red crescent-moons that might be left there, a trail of red that marks all the places Chloe was, a trail that's proof Chloe was here, that Chloe was with her. The thought makes her shudder, her grip falter, her focus wane. For all her demure sweetness in public, Chloe is ruthless when she wants to be and that's all the opening she needs to snake her fingers up to meet the apex of Aubrey’s thighs and hold a thumb, rough, against her clit.

 

Aubrey makes a sound. Maybe it's a hiss. Maybe it's a moan. At any rate, it's followed by a glare. Chloe's smirking dangerously, like she thinks she's got her way. Like she thinks, just because she's got a thumb rubbing lazy circles on Aubrey’s clit and a curled finger ready to plunge into Aubrey’s cunt, she'll get her way and Aubrey will just cave under her.

 

No, Aubrey has more patience than that.

 

"Always the same," Aubrey sighs, only this time it's filled with more fondness, even through a exasperation she can never wholly shake. Chloe's smirk turns into a smile and that's almost enough to make Aubrey's resolve waver, but not quite.

 

It's easy to get lost in Chloe's body, until the sensations of her own become a distant hum. Chloe's occupied now, at any rate, and no longer squirming and twitching and interfering with the way Aubrey needs to chart all the pathways of Chloe's skin. So Aubrey continues on with what she always intended to do, fingers ghosting over Chloe's body with feather-light touches: from the V of her hips to the slope of her thighs, and back up; the outside, then in. Chloe hates being teased. Aubrey sees it less like teasing, though, and more like pre-foreplay. Aubrey is always thorough. These things need to be done carefully, not recklessly ploughed into the way Chloe always goes about them.

 

Aubrey's much better at distracting. Even as Chloe's hands fumble under her control, rubbing circles over her clit in erratic patterns, her own re-memorise all the planes and angles of Chloe's existence. Then finally, finally, Aubrey reaches out to explore the meeting of Chloe's legs.

 

Chloe's so eager (so, so eager) that she spreads wide the moment Aubrey's hand even begins to go that way. It makes them lose their balance and almost topple over – that’s how much they're leaning into one another. Aubrey muffles a half-laugh into the space where Chloe's neck become Chloe's shoulder, still admiring the soft, even paleness of the skin there.

 

"Let me take care of you," she whispers again, and her free hand moves to wean Chloe's away from her body. Chloe makes another whisper of protest.  Aubrey can feel the way her fingers are coated in arousal, still warm and almost pulsing with want.

 

She withdraws her hands from Chloe's core to another noise of protest, this time even more desperate and undignified. Chloe's eyes open wide in outrage at the retreat and she bucks her hips up trying to follow Aubrey's hands as they move away.

 

Aubrey can't have Chloe interfere again, not now. Aubrey's plans have already been sped up faster than she'd like, all for Chloe yet again. So this time _she_ moves, pushing Chloe down onto the bed they've been so rudely ignoring. When Chloe realises this, she finally stops it with her noises of complain and her mewling whines turn into moans, deep and throaty. They echo around the hotel room and make Aubrey swallow, taken aback by the new wave of arousal that hits her and makes the heat in her core spring up, hotter and unstable. That sort of feeling is more useful when it cools a little and gets stuck in Aubrey's mind – when it's less passionate impulse and more calculating want - so she tries to strangle it back down. Now’s not the time. Now’s not _her_ time. Now is Chloe's time.

 

Chloe doesn't care much for pillows and angles and negotiating a good spot on the bed. If anything, Aubrey bets, Chloe would want Aubrey to just _take her_ here and now, hard and rough, three fingers deep, deep into her cunt, lips and teeth wrapped round a nipple, Aubrey's own slit rubbing fast and unforgiving, wet slickness and burning friction against Chloe's thigh. Chloe would want to moan, loud and louder, not caring a thing about the thin walls or the sore aching in her muscles she'd feel the day after.

 

That's not Aubrey's style, though.

 

It's Aubrey's job to think ahead (it always is) so she takes a moment's break from caressing the folds of Chloe's core, to prop Chloe's head and hips up on some pillows and to shuffle their bodies from the awkward splay across the bed to something that can better support Chloe's weight. Chloe's displeased by the disruption (she always is) but knows she's too close risk doing anything that would throw Aubrey off and, thus, she complies. She follows Aubrey’s lead, lifting her hips up so the pillow can slide underneath.

 

It's time like these Aubrey wants to tell Chloe about how it's the minor details that really make the scene. Chloe's desire for instant gratification so often leads to such loss. Chloe really is getting desperate, though, and she's being so _good_ , trying to keep her hips from twitching up as Aubrey's hands trace outlines around her entrance, or as Aubrey's mouth whispers dirty promises against her wetness or as Aubrey's fingers wipe themselves dry from Chloe's arousal against her stomach and against her breast and against her hips, back, thighs.

 

Chloe is so wet Aubrey could paint a masterpiece on her body. She wants to. She's tempted. She'd love nothing more than to mark out the stars in the sky on the curves and dips of Chloe's body with Chloe's own cum, but that'd be too selfish. Chloe is teetering on the edge of something and Aubrey can only hold her here so long before anticipation segues into frustration. Frustration is endlessly fun too, but Chloe's done nothing to merit it today. No, Chloe's being _good_.

 

"I'm going to eat you out," Aubrey informs. When Chloe asked her to do that, weeks ago, she felt awkward, but now the words come to her easily even if there’s a hint of awkward distaste in the way she has to say them. "That's what you want, isn't it? I'm going to fuck you with my tongue until you come, and then I'm going to make you come again and again under me."

 

Chloe moans, ragged, loud. She's ignoring the pillow by her side Aubrey left to muffle the sounds. How typical. Well, now's not the time.

 

Chloe loves Aubrey's fingers more than her tongue but that's only because she never waits long enough for Aubrey's mouth to work. Chloe loves to be filled, stretched out, that place deep inside of her stroked and fondled and fucked, but Aubrey always wants to be gentler. Build it up. Stoke the coals so the train runs faster. Chloe's never allowed her the pleasure but this time, desperate and moaning and fists coiled knuckle-white in the sheets, Chloe will have to let her.

 

She pressed her tongue against Chloe's clit and licks in a broad, flat stroke. Chloe twists and her hips tremble, almost lifting off the bed but staying in place. Good. It's so hard for Aubrey to focus on a moving target. Just in case, though, Aubrey presses her hands against Chloe's hips again, pressing them down into the mattress. Her head dips down, nose brushing against hot everything before her mouth settles in a spot again and her tongue slides into Chloe.

 

She pulls out and licks the whole length of Chloe's pussy, then thrusts in and repeats. Chloe's moans rise in pitch and volume and then her hands lift up from the bed sheets and tangle themselves in Aubrey's hair, fingers askew and everywhere and pleading, begging with their touch. Aubrey's mouth sucks, lips curling soft around Chloe, around everything.

 

It's supposed to be about Chloe, it really is, but Aubrey can't help it. She loves moving, slow, soft tongue gliding against softer flesh, head nested deep and comfortable between Chloe's thighs. She breathes in, immersing herself in the smell of Chloe's want. She teases, face rubbing softly at the entrance. Chloe needs. She's done being good. Her fingers press hard into the back of Aubrey's skull and her thighs squeeze her face begging for more. Aubrey feels wanted, and that just makes her want Chloe more.

 

She presses her lips and tongue against the side of the labia, like messy kisses and then she rounds back to the clit again, flicking and sucking, light then harder. She moves around, makes love to the whole of Chloe's centre, making sure there's not a spot of flesh she hasn't caressed and licked and fucked with her mouth. She purses her lips against Chloe's body, swirling her tongue in the cum that keeps dripping out of Chloe, careful not to waste a drop, not to let anything spill uselessly on the bed sheets when it could be all over Aubrey's mouth and tongue and face.

 

Chloe's hips just buck up now; she's gone, grinding herself into Aubrey's face, pressing Aubrey's head deeper into her, muscles in her legs taut and hard.

 

It's not just licking or sucking or touching. It's eating. Aubrey keeps up a pace just too gentle to be called fucking. Chloe may protest, but Aubrey knows it's better for her, less sore for her, moves slower because she knows it will pay off in the long run. It's eating, and Aubrey's mouth is all over Chloe, tiny nips and harder strokes and fevered kisses and licks and everything she can give.

 

She angles her head, focuses on the clit and lifts a hand up from Chloe hips because keeping them there is useless now with the way Chloe is thrashing and thrusting and throwing the bed in disarray in a desperate attempt to chase her climax. She eases in two fingers, gentling, admiring they disappear into the pliant red flesh of Chloe's walls. (It’d be nice to keep them uninvolved, but Chloe keeps begging, begging, begging and Aubrey’s not heartless.) She doesn't stop, not ever, not even as her hand starts to thrust, nice and even to the pace of a song Aubrey can't even name now, not even while she's humming it as she's devouring Chloe.

 

The pace is slow but it builds a little faster, and as it goes, Aubrey works a little harder, humming the anthem in her breathes, pauses are her tongue writes in Chloe's writhing folds, as her tongue sweeps over Chloe's slip, as she feels her own nipples press, erect, into the cold, hard mattress.

 

She doesn't stop, not when Chloe's groans turn into shudders turn into screams and her hands coil tight and hard in Aubrey's hair. She doesn't stop, not when Chloe's hips jump, flying up to meet Aubrey's face. She's doesn't stop, even, when the gush of Chloe's release spurts out from her and sends a hot dribbling trail down Aubrey's face and down her neck and in between her breasts.

 

She doesn't stop until Chloe's body is a shaking, trembling mess beneath her, everything soft and worked over, every climax ridden out, every nerve tinged beyond sensation. Chloe's fingers finally uncurl from her hair and there's till a dull ache there from where she pulled hard. Aubrey doesn't remember breathing, she just remembers the smell of Chloe: dark and heady like infinity.

 

"See?" she says. Chloe hand traces her line of her jaw and rests, cupping her cheek. Chloe's eyes are half-lidded, hooded over with exhaustion, her cheeks flushed pink, her chest rising and falling, breasts slicked over with sweat.

 

"See what?" Chloe replies. Her voice is quiet, hoarse from the screams of ecstasy.

 

Aubrey smirks. She climbs her way up the bed to fit the curves of their bodies together and presses a kiss to Chloe's temple. Her arms wrap gently around Chloe's waist.

 

"It's _much_ better when you wait."


End file.
